


The Wish

by ThatGirlOverThere



Category: Palo Alto (2013)
Genre: April (Palo Alto) - Freeform, F/M, Ficlet, Fred (Palo Alto) - Freeform, M/M, Missing Scene, Palo Alto, Teddy (Palo Alto) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlOverThere/pseuds/ThatGirlOverThere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everyone pretends to be normal and be your best friend, but underneath, everyone is living some other life you don't know about, and if only we had a camera on us at all times, we could go and watch each other's tapes and find out what each of us was really like.” <br/>- James Franco, Palo Alto</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wish

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed both the collection of stories and film "Palo Alto", and was disappointed by the nonexistent fandom, so I wrote my own short missing scene as tribute. Please enjoy.

Fred grips the wheel with bone-white knuckles as he and Teddy zip down the asphalt streets of Palo Alto, muggy humid night air creeping through the cracked-open window and kissing the slowly accumulating moisture at the base of Teddy's scalp. He swallows, Fred sniffs wetly.

  
"Just let me out, dude,” he begs, eyes locked on Fred's glassy, determined scowl. His slap lands before Teddy can register it, sharp, hot pain that lights up his cheek while Fred’s hard, unwavering gaze remains intensely focused on the approaching “One Way” sign around the bend.

“Let me the fuck out… Pull over, man, let me out,” he whines, breathless with the heat of the air, the slap, the moment. Fred never turns on the air conditioning; Teddy has ever dared do it himself.

Fred silently pulls over underneath the concrete overpass, secluded and structured in a way that Teddy isn’t used to. The glare of the streetlights no longer casts a grim filter over him, and Teddy considers closing his eyes, pretending to be somewhere else. He unclicks his seatbelt and instead looks over at Fred, lashes clumped together with congealing tears, gaze still locked hard on the center of the steering wheel.

Teddy counts seven breaths, in and out, before asking, “What are you doing?” It comes out as the barest breath, scenting the air with cigarette breath and moist heat. His hand is on the door handle, but he makes no move to open it. He opens his mouth, not knowing what to say but feeling the desire, the need to say something, _anything_ to make sure Fred is okay, is not headed down the tunnel of death.

“You think you’re Bob,” he whispers, and Fred is on him in a flash, kissing savage, all tongue and teeth and no finesse, he is devouring Teddy, conquering what is his and _owning_ him. Teddy has never felt so exposed in his life.

Fred pulls back and his eyes are fire-bright and horrifying; his mouth is red-wet as the blood now congealing in night-colored scabs across his temple.

“I made you,” he growls, “And now I’m going to take you back apart.” He grabs Teddy’s flannel in his fist and surges back in, teeth clacking as he shoves his tongue into Teddy’s smoke-flavored mouth.

“Stop… fuck, man, stop,” Teddy whines breathlessly as Fred’s kisses trail to his neck and become bruising, punishing nips. He gathers what pride he has left and shoves Fred off of him, breaking contact. Fred slumps back into his seat, gaze returning to the “Do Not Enter” sign in the distance.

Teddy opens his eyes and he is not somewhere else, he is here, right now, sitting beside Fred in a smoke-scented, humid car and there is no hope left for him, his eyes are losing their sparkle and Teddy has nothing left to say. He gets out and in a second Fred is gone, Fred has never been there, anyway… he’s gone, and he’s headed in the wrong direction, headed down the tunnel of death and Teddy isn’t there to stop him.

His phone buzzes and it’s April, sweet, sweet April who he loves so much, who’s a good thing for him. A better thing.

_i wished that asian kid that killed himself is in a better place right now_

**Author's Note:**

> Lines and characters are borrowed from the film "Palo Alto", distributed by Tribeca Film, written and directed by Gia Coppola and based on the collection of short stories by James Franco.


End file.
